


Absolutely Beautiful

by zelda_zee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelda_zee/pseuds/zelda_zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean & Cas revisit the incident of the pink panties. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolutely Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Written for janie_tangerine for 5 Acts.

“Well?” Dean said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, his voice wavering uncharacteristically. “Say something, Cas. Don’t just leave me –” he broke off, making a vague little gesture, possibly indicating himself, naked but for a pair of pink satin panties tastefully trimmed with bits of lace, a tiny bow sewn in the center of the band that hugged his hips, or possibly at Castiel, who had been sitting, fully clothed, at the foot of the bed, waiting for Dean to emerge from the bathroom, and who was now carefully considering his next move.

Castiel had known, of course, what to expect when Dean opened that door and stepped into the room. It had been a topic of conversation just two nights before, when Dean had accused Castiel of not having a single kinky bone in his body and Castiel had countered by informing Dean that he had never been able to forget the sight of Dean in pink panties all those many years ago when Dean was just 19 and yes, of course Castiel had been watching him then, and Dean’s mouth had dropped open then snapped closed and his face turned pinker than those well-remembered panties. It had all come out then, and it had been so obvious that Dean had wanted this, wanted some excuse to do it again, and Castiel was quite certain that he would do much more than that to make Dean happy, and it was such a simple thing, and after all, Dean _had_ looked very fetching in those feminine undergarments.

And now he stood before Castiel, looking beautiful as he always looked to Castiel, and scared and vulnerable as he never did. Castiel realized, a bit late, that this was an Important Moment, a moment that he had to get right, the difficulty he had with understanding human sexual “kinks” notwithstanding. One wrong word now and Dean would shut down tight and never let him in so far again.

So Castiel didn’t speak, he just held out his hand, and after a few seconds’ hesitation Dean stepped forward and took it. Castiel pulled him in close, so that Dean was standing between his thighs, and he leaned forward, planting a kiss on that little pink bow, then above it, on the trail of fine hair that led down from Dean’s navel.

“You are beautiful like this.” He looked up into Dean’s face, catching the flare of red across his cheekbones, the glassiness in his eyes. Castiel could see his chest rising and falling so much more rapidly than normal, hear his heartbeat speed up. 

“You like it?” Dean’s voice was low, still a little shaky. “Don’t fuck with me, Cas, I don’t think I could stand it, not now.”

“I mean it,” Castiel said, and he did, even if he did not truly understand why wearing those undergarments was so fraught with significance for Dean, why it affected him so deeply, yet he did not need to understand in order to find the sight of Dean in them beautiful.

The scent of arousal rose up off of Dean suddenly, as if Castiel had broken through whatever it was Dean had used to keep himself tamped down. Castiel mouthed over Dean’s cock and it stirred in its tight cage of smooth fabric, lengthening and thickening so that the constriction grew more pronounced and every ridge and vein could be seen in relief, the head of his cock pushing at the elastic waistband, threatening to pop out. Castiel slid his fingers beneath the elastic at Dean’s thighs, over the firm muscles of his ass, and Dean’s head fell back on a groan, his hands going to Castiel’s hair, fingers trembling against his scalp. He was trembling everywhere, Castiel realized, little tremors in the muscles of his thighs and abdomen that he fought by locking his knees and sucking in his stomach.

Castiel slid his fingertips into Dean’s cleft, finding, to his surprise, that he was already loose and wet with lube. This was… different. But Castiel was inexperienced, not naïve and not unobservant. He knew enough about human behavior to understand what was being asked.

“You want to be fucked in those panties, don’t you Dean?” 

Dean didn’t answer, just nodded his head, eyes dark with lust, staring at Castiel as if he was the only thing he could see. It was, Castiel mused, quite pleasant to have Dean’s full attention, to feel that he was finally as aware of Castiel’s power as he should have been all along.

Castiel pushed two fingers inside. Dean was warm and very slick, offering only the slightest resistance. He must have spent some time and effort getting ready. The noise he made as Castiel’s fingers delved inward was desperate but stifled, like he was trying to hold it back. That would not do, Castiel thought. Not at all.

He lifted Dean up, turned and deposited him on the bed. Dean uttered a startled shout, reminding Castiel that he really should have warned him first. It was easy to forget that humans were not used to such treatment. 

With a thought, his own clothes vanished and he leaned down over Dean, one hand braced on the bed at Dean’s shoulder. The other he dragged down Dean’s torso hooking his fingertips in the waistband and drawing it down just below the dark, shiny head of his cock. There was a smear of wetness at the tip and Castiel rubbed with his thumb, spreading it around. Dean arched, his hands flying to Castiel’s hips and holding on, fingernails digging in, bright points of pain that sparked along Castiel’s nerves.

“C’mon Cas, please, just fucking do it…”

“Do what, Dean?” Castiel asked, though he was already carefully tucking Dean’s cock back into the panties and nudging him to turn over. He rolled onto his stomach and Castiel helped him into position, drawing him back onto his knees, legs widely spread.

“You know, just do it,” Dean grumbled.

Castiel said nothing, sitting back on his heels and admiring the sight of Dean’s satin-clad backside. There was a wet spot from the lube. Dean would have said it was obscene, but Castiel just found it sweet, that Dean had been so eager for this that he’d used more lube than he could keep inside him.

“ _C’mon_.” It wasn’t quite a whine, but very nearly.

“Tell me,” Castiel said, laying a hand on the small of Dean’s back. He stroked along his spine, pushing him down until Dean had to turn his head to keep his face from being smashed into the pillow. Castiel’s hand splayed across his cheek, thumb hooking into the corner of his mouth. Dean licked it and Castiel rubbed over his bottom lip, feeling Dean’s quick, panting breaths against his skin.

“I want,” Dean licked his lips, tongue passing over Castiel’s thumb. “I want you to fuck me.”

“What else?” Castiel knew there was more. There was always more with Dean.

“Wanna – oh fuck.” Castiel drew down the back of Dean’s panties, just far enough to expose his hole. It was pink and shiny like the panties, just as pretty. Castiel bent forward and kissed it, not minding the lube, and Dean made a noise that was part sob, part laugh, rolling his face into the pillow so his voice was muffled when he spoke. “Wanna come in these – in these – all over these p-panties,” he gasped. “Make a mess in ‘em. F-fill ‘em up with c-come.”

“You will,” Castiel said, “I promise you that.”

Dean just groaned inarticulately as Castiel knelt behind him, rubbed the tip of his cock against Dean’s entrance until, with an impatient growl, Dean shoved backward, taking the first couple of inches in a sudden slide of heat and pressure that made Castiel’s hips buck, pushing him deeper. Dean stilled then, panting, but Castiel could feel muscles pulsing around his cock, pulling him in, so he didn’t fight it. He pushed in deep, one long, smooth thrust, and Dean opened to him, took him in and held him tight. It was always thus with Dean, a perfect fit when they moved together, when he sank into Dean’s body and it felt like going home. It was always perfect, but never the same. This time he watched the elastic leave red lines on Dean’s pale skin, felt the panties tight against the underside of his erection, listened to the sounds Dean made, a little different in pitch than usual, a little more wrung out and urgent. Wearing that little slip of fabric made it good for Dean, and Castiel didn’t truly understand why, but nevertheless, it was good for him as well.

“Watch,” Castiel said, reaching beneath Dean and palming his cock through the panties and Dean moved onto his elbows so he could see the play of Castiel’s hand on his satin-encased dick.

Castiel couldn’t get a good grip through the panties, so he stroked over Dean’s cock, squeezing his balls, running his fingers up and down his length, teasing at the head, thumbing the slit through wet fabric.

“You are,” he said as he rubbed in time with his thrusts, “beautiful like this. Do you see?” Dean moaned in response, pushing back to meet his rhythm. “Do you believe me, Dean?” Dean shuddered, his body drawing in, tensing. Castiel could feel him balancing on the edge, ready to tip over with the slightest push.

Castiel squeezed Dean's cock, fucked into him hard, fast, and Dean cried out once, and then again, hips jerking, cock jumping in Castiel’s grip as his come, warm and wet, soaked the fabric under his hand. Dean tightened around Castiel until he could barely thrust, until he couldn’t _not_ come, every fiber of his being needing to pour itself into Dean.

“Oh God,” Dean groaned into the pillow, sounding completely wrecked “Oh my God. Cas. Oh my God.”

It was long moments before Castiel opened his eyes. They were lying flat on the bed and he was still on top of Dean. He moved back carefully, but Dean only sighed as Castiel’s cock slipped free. Dean rolled over onto his back, looking at Castiel out of nearly closed eyes. His face was flushed, his hair a mess, sweat shone on his skin, and the panties he was wearing were soaked through, dark with wetness and clinging to his skin. He was, as Castiel had been trying to tell him, absolutely beautiful.


End file.
